


Four wheels, two wings and a pair of false teeth

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: Doom Patrol (TV)
Genre: Gardens & Gardening, Gen, Heart-to-Heart, Multiple Personalities, Recovered Memories, Repressed Memories, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-01 09:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18333011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: Larry's days were categorized three but very similar ways- bad, very bad and worse.Today was one of his worse days.





	Four wheels, two wings and a pair of false teeth

Larry's days were categorized three but very similar ways- bad, very bad and worse.  
  
Today was one of his worse days.  
  
He had woken up in agony, disconnected from himself as if his over-personal roommate had jumped from his body without his knowledge and walked the halls for hours before returning back to him and leaving Larry bone tired as if he hadn't gotten any sleep at all.  
  
In an attempt to make himself feel just a little bit better, Larry retreated to the kitchen and tried to concentrate on making the household a full meal- one large enough to feed Rita's ravenous appetite and to satisfy all 64 of Jane's different alters, but then his chest had glowed and his body had shook and suddenly his consciousness was taken by the spiritual being made out of intergalactic electricity and he fell face first onto all the food and burners and the only reason he didn't have any third-degree burns was because his body couldn't be more fucked up than it already was and that Cliff had seen the energy spirit floating through the halls and ran to the kitchen and pulled Larry away from the fire. So no lasting damage but his bandages were ruined.  
  
And then... he couldn't stop thinking about John. And that was the greatest agony of all.  
  
So after a dreadful morning, Larry found himself at the bus, tending to his orchids. It was quiet in the bus-turned-greenhouse. Even the spirit, the lightning being that was slowly taking over his life, left him alone.  
  
Nobody in that house... they couldn't really understand. They didn't really know what it was like to live with another person sharing their skin.  
  
Rita thought she did. She was under the impression that 'Rita Farr', actress, beauty, model was a completely different person than the 'slime', malformed, grotesque, unwanted. But no matter how Rita said it, she was still one person split between two different forms. Cliff was one person changed by being forced into a body made of tin and sheets of metal and Vic was still just Vic with added adjustments. Only Jane and the other 63 people living in her body knew a little bit what Larry felt.  
  
But even then, it was still _Jane_. Still Rita. Still Cliff. Not some otherworldly being who lived within them with no name and no language and no goal except to hurt.  
  
He has his plants- he has a little piece of himself that is only him- only Larry Trainer, pilot, husband, father, boyfriend, monster. Maybe the thing inside of him had a name or a family. Maybe Larry took the spirit away from its family just as it took him away from his. Maybe it's been trying to get home the same way Larry would never be able to.  
  
But no. That couldn't be it. If that was true, it would have left Larry and his body long ago. That couldn't be it.  
  
Larry focused on his plants- the bus was old and rickety and creaked when Larry walked through it, but his plants got plenty of sunlight when the clouds parted and plenty of watering when it rained so really all he had to do was come out and admire them- make sure they didn't overgrow their pots and overtake other plants. Like what was happening to him.  
  
John would tell him that he was being silly. Overreacting. Worrying over nothing. He would wind Larry's curls around his finger and kiss him hard and strong yet somehow soft at the same time until he would forget everything that was on his mind and all his thoughts would turn to soupy mush.  
  
No. Stop. He needed to stop thinking about him, stop making it worse. Larry turned away from John's favourite flower and resisted the urge to run his fingers over the petals as he walked down the steps and out of the bus.  
  
The sun was shining bright and warm, not a cloud in the blue sky, and so Larry sat there for a moment, face tilted towards the light. He wished he could feel it more than just the heat warming up his bandages, but unless he took them off and risked hurting everyone he cared about, he thought it was better to just leave it.  
  
There was the sound of shifting rocks behind him and Larry turned to see Jane sitting on the banister. There was paint on her fingertips. "Which one are you?" He asked bluntly. It was probably rude, but he wasn't in the mood to deal with Hammerhead or Baby Doll or even the Hangman's Daughter at this point.  
  
"You look like shit," was the reply, but it didn't have any bite, which was odd in any circumstance.  
  
"Jane then," Larry said, ignoring her comment. "Plain Jane."  
  
She was close enough to reach him, so she threw her leg out and kicked him in the back of the knee, almost bringing him down and making him kiss the ground. "I told you not to call me that. But really- what's got your bandages in a bunch? I can't really see your face under all that crap but Flit said she heard you sobbing and Hammerhead was laughing because she saw you collapse onto the food."  
  
"Hammerhead saw and didn't do anything?" Larry asked but he didn't really care. There were more important things he should be thinking about. Like Flit somehow hearing him sobbing and who else would have heard.  
  
Jane shrugged. "She doesn't give a fuck. She told Cliff though but I think he'd already figured it out. He was running that way anyway." She kicked him again, lighter this time. "What's up?"  
  
Irritated, he waved at his chest which was faintly glowing beneath his bandages. "It's just this... _thing_." He said it with disgust. "It's ruining my life more than it already has and I haven't got a clue how to talk to it or get rid of it. I've tried to and yet all I've gotten from it are creepy dreams where it shows me all the ways I fucked up."  
  
The look on Jane's face told Larry that she wanted to poke it and he covered his chest with his hand just in case. "Does it hurt?" She asked curiously.  
  
"I mean," Larry moved to join her on the banister and she shifted slightly to accommodate him. "It hurts pretty bad when I collapse onto a help on whatever floor the spirit decides to drop me on."  
  
Jane smirked and Larry got a distinct impression that she enjoyed his pain. "Baby Doll doesn't like it when that happens. It reminds her of that nursery rhyme about the tissues and the story of the egg."  
  
Larry frowned. "Do you mean 'ring around a Rosie' and 'Humpty Dumpty'?" He asked. He remembered reading those to his children many many years ago.  
  
"I don't fucking know," Jane glared. "Do I look like someone who reads that kiddy shit?"  
  
"I still don't see how I relate to either of those."  
  
"You're always falling down," Jane said like it was obvious and if he was being honest, it sort of was. She slapped him in the shoulder with the back of her hand. "That's not the point. Stop dodging the question."  
  
"I don't know what to tell you," Larry ran a hand down his face. "It controls me. It stays in my body for however long it likes and for some strange fucking reason I've become dependent on it, and when it does decide to leave, I don't even get to enjoy it because _it knocks me the fuck out._ "  
  
Jane was looking at him with something he couldn't identify. It was nothing like sympathy because Jane didn't _do_ sympathy. Not even pity. Understanding, maybe? Oh god, did Jane even know what empathy was? "You really hate it that much?"  
  
For a moment, Larry had the sudden urge to rip off his bandages and hope that what was left of his skin would peel off with it. " _Yes_ ," he hissed. "I have never hated anything or anyone more in my _life_ and I just don't know what I'm supposed to _do_."  
  
"Except yourself," Jane said absently as she examined her nails but by the way her head was turned towards him ever so slightly, he had a strange impression that she was faking.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You have never hated anyone or anything more than the thing except yourself."  
  
All of Larry's ire was drained out of him in an instant and he slumped back against the wall with his head in a hand. "Yeah. Yeah, alright. That's true."  
  
Jane elbowed him lightly in the side and it was such an uncharacteristically kind and gentle gesture from her that it surprised him. "Maybe that's the first thing we should fix."  
  
"It's just... living with another person inhabiting my body is- it's not just exhausting but it's painful and it feels like my body doesn't entirely belong to me." Larry blew a long, heavy breath slowly out of his nose. "I've been like this for so long that I've almost forgotten what it was like to be myself. Have my body be all to myself. I've almost forgotten what it felt like to be... me."  
  
"Well," Jane mused. "Maybe you're not looking at this the right way."  
  
Larry turned to look at her but Jane was facing away from him, eyes on his bus filled with plants. "I don't... I don't understand."  
  
"Maybe it's not you're enemy," Jane began quietly. "Maybe it's stuck with you as much as you're stuck with it, and you're both just trying to make the best out of a bad situation. From what I've seen, to us it almost looks like its protecting you."  
  
"How would you know? I don't know what it does when it leaves me and I'm not always around you guys either."  
  
Jane ran a hand through her hair as she thought. "The others... I created them. Not on purpose but when I needed help the most, they were there for me. Baby Doll and Hammerhead and Silvertounge and everyone else. They all protect me and they're always there when I need them. Maybe... maybe your spirit has learned that you need to be protected too."  
  
When she had finished speaking, Jane looked over and saw Larry looking at her sceptically. "I'm not sure if we have that sort of relationship."  
  
Shrugging, Jane jumped off the banister and landed gently on the ground. "Suit yourself." She said as she stuck her hands in her pockets. "But out of everyone in this fucking house, I'm the only one who knows what it's like living with someone else under your skin. Maybe you should try working with the spirit instead of against it."  
  
"Jane!" Larry called as she turned to walk away. She looked over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow and an unimpressed look. "Thank you."  
  
She looked like she was about to reply but suddenly her skin rippled and her face soured and Jane wasn't Jane anymore. "Pull yourself together, you bandaged fuck." Hammerhead spat. "We don't have time for your petty little problems." Sighing, Larry raised a hand in goodbye and Hammerhead stormed away.  
  
Larry stood and made his way back to his plants, a small bead of blue glowing patiently in the centre of his chest, and wondered if his worse day had just gotten a little bit better.


End file.
